


Life is Unfair

by Wino



Series: The Darcy fix no one asked for [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Happy Ending, The author has no idea of what she's doing, but she's not telling you, maybe? - Freeform, the author enjoys this, there's a flip side, yes - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-29
Updated: 2017-04-29
Packaged: 2018-10-25 10:42:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10762626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wino/pseuds/Wino
Summary: Novigrad was no more, and this, this was a tragedy. "Just put the bodies into bags, they're identified and there's nothing for you to do here. We'll ship them off as soon as it's morning," they had told her. Darcy swallowed another lump in her throat as she signed 'Tanja Ivanovna Mirkova' on the tiny label. This was so unfair.





	Life is Unfair

**Author's Note:**

> Help. This one was a long time coming (3 weeks!). It wouldn't come to me and so I had to start a Darcy/Nat to get the plot bunny working.  
> Needless to say, that one is now blocked and I'm trying to feed 'plot Bunny #119' who's actually a mammoth size thing... so yeah.  
> This is the start of a new project that I hatched with wonderful Bloomingsoftly (yay you!), who is now writing a flipped version of this story!  
> So yeah, all the kisses to her.

Novigrad was no more, and this, this was a tragedy. "Just put the bodies into bags, they're identified and there's nothing for you to do here. We'll ship them off as soon as it's morning," they had told her. Darcy swallowed another lump in her throat as she signed 'Tanja Ivanovna Mirkova' on the tiny label. This was so unfair.

  
As she got to the next body, she froze. This was Pietro Maximoff. This body was not supposed to be here. Shouldn't he be with his sister? Oh God, did his sister even know his body was in a godforsaken morgue in DC instead of an Avenger facility or something?

  
As she got closer, the lump in Darcy’s throat became tears. He was so young! So young and handsome and this was not the end a hero deserved: in a tiny body bag, all covered in blood and soot.

  
She made quick work of the other 17 bodies in the morgue, glad that other people were responsible for copying down other names in other morgues. She signed off on seventy-nine, which was terrible enough on its own.

  
She sighed and approached the body of Pietro Maximoff with dejected determination. This was so not in her job description (Thank you, Agent Zombie!), but she was determined to give the young man the proper sendoff he deserved. So she got some tools and started, with the patience and the procedures they had taught her at SHIELD, to extract the last bullets from his body, so that she could clean him a bit and maybe dress him in something decent before signing him off.

  
However, as she was getting the last of the bullets out, a soft moan interrupted her. She jerked and looked around. She then stared at the body in her hands. "....Was that you? Pietro?"

  
She scoffed, it was ridiculous. It could only be a postmortem sound he'd made. Rats were known to continue screaming for _hours_ after you decapitated them.

  
She shook her head and proceeded with the last extraction.

  
"...Wan... da"

  
She jerked again and stared at Pietro intently. _Oh. My. God._

  
The body was breathing.

  
_This man was alive._

  
"Doctors, doctors, Help!" she screamed at the top of her lungs. She looked at Pietro's face, forced one eye open and said, "You stay with me, got that? Stay with me!"

  
But he didn't hear her. His eye was wide and unseeing.

* * *

 

  
The next few hours were a flurry of doctors and nurses going in and out of the operation room, while Darcy filed the admission forms for ‘Mikhail Petrovich,’  a civilian of Sokovia who was alive god knew how.

  
Darcy thanked Thor that she hadn't signed anything on Pietro Maximoff’s body bag before starting to clean him up.  Revealing an ex-Hydra operative, newly-reformed Avenger, to a well-meaning but definitely not secure Hospital was like asking for the Dark Elves by parading the Aether in their face.

  
Not smart, not useful.

What she did need, however, was time, so she filled all of Pietro’s data on someone else's bag and switched their names, in case anyone was tempted to check.

  
“Miss Lewis?” A tired looking doctor came out of the operation room.

  
Darcy paled. Oh dear, please no.

  
“We’ve managed to stabilise him,” and just like that, Darcy felt like a huge weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

  
She wouldn't have been able to forgive herself had she been unable to contact the other Maximoff twin before he died.

  
“For now,” the doctor added. “Frankly, it's a miracle he made it this far, and he's still critical. Does he have any family?”

  
“Ah yes, I think so.” She made a show of checking Petrovich's information. “A sister, I think.” Inside, she was choking. Critical was bad, very bad.

  
“She'll need to be informed, we don't know how long the boy has.” The doctor sighed. “What happened today is tragic, and this boy's luck is running out.”

  
Darcy's hands flew to her mouth in horror without her realising it.

  
The girl. She had to reach the Maximoff girl right away.

* * *

  
“I'm sorry, Miss Lewis.” The stupidly patient voice of the secretary interrupted her again. She didn't sound sorry, at all. “The Avengers are very busy at the moment and they're not available for comment.” The woman hung up.

  
Darcy stared, open-mouthed, at the tiny phone in the hall.

  
How dare she!

  
She quickly redialed the number she'd been given from SHIELD to contact the Avengers in case of emergency, so long ago it felt unreal.

  
“Avengers Tower.” It was the detached secretary again.

  
“Yes,” she bit out, trying to compose herself. “I'm Darcy Lewis, I'm calling because-”

  
“I'm sorry, Miss Lewis.” The woman interrupted her without an ounce of remorse. “The Avengers are very busy and-”

  
“I KNOW!” She exploded, and the woman shut up in surprise. Darcy charged on, trying to use the shock to her advantage. “Look, we're all busy, and if you could just take a second to shut up and listen, I need to speak to Wanda Maximoff. It's imperative that I talk to her and-”

  
“Miss Maximoff is unavailable for comment--” _this woman, seriously, this woman._ "--and Mr Stark would like to add that SHIELD is not welcome to use this channel of contact anymore. Thank you."

  
"What? NO!" But it was too late, the infuriating woman had hung up.

Darcy wanted to cry, so bad.

  
She once again swallowed her rage and dialled Jane's number. It was ten in the morning in London, Jane was bound to be up or doing Science! with Ian and Erik, anyway.

 

* * *

  
"...And I've tried and tried and Jane you can't believe that new assistant is like, so ... It's like Coulson secretly had a daughter and didn't tell anyone." Jane was up, but wasn't being as helpful and sympathetic as Darcy would have liked.

  
"...Who? Friday?" Huh?

  
"...Who calls their daughter Friday? _Really_ , Jane?"

  
"Well, she's Stark's new AI, Darcy, not a real person." This actually explained so much.

  
"....Oh. Well, JARVIS was so much better, and I mean it. I've tried to get in touch with Maximoff for _three days,_ I haven't slept a wink and the coffee here tastes disgusting, and this new AI is literally blocking me!"

  
"Why do you need to speak to Wanda, anyways?" Jane looked confused.

  
Darcy swallowed. She had no qualms about calling the Avengers from the landline at the hospital, she was pretty damn sure the line at Stark Tower was secure. However, Jane and her tiny phone were not protected. She couldn't risk it, not with Jane.

  
"It's a matter of life and death, Janey, it's super duper important that I contact her _yesterday_!" she made up on the spot. It was the truth if a bit stretched.

  
"O...kay" Jane said slowly. "Wait a minute."

  
"Jane? Where are you going? Jane! You're not sciencing, are you? Jane?"

  
"...Who is this?" a pitiful, crying, tiny voice answered instead of Jane.

  
It was Wanda Maximoff.

  
Darcy fought the tears of relief and tried to collect her thoughts. "Wanda Maximoff? I'm Darcy Lewis, I don't know if you rem-"

  
"You work with SHIELD," Wanda said. _What was it with people interrupting her lately, huh?_

  
"What? No. Well, no, I mean, yes technically, I did, before the Triskelion in 2014 anyways, but that's not why I'm calling you!" She was talking a mile a minute but this was her chance and she would not be stopped. She took a big breath.

  
"....Why?" Wanda sounded suspicious and skeptical and okay, weren't Darcy in such a hurry and weren't the matter so time sensitive, she would have understood.

  
"Listen, it's about your brother."

  
"You found his body!" The voice was filled with hope and desperation at the same time, and Darcy's heart broke just a tiny bit.

  
"No, I've found _him!_ " she said forcefully. "Wanda, your brother is alive!"

  
There was silence on the other end of the phone.

  
"Wanda? Wanda?"

  
"...That is not funny," she said at last.

  
"Funny? Wha- No! Please, listen, I'm in DC and your brother needs you here, he's in critical condition!"

  
"Is this a ploy?" Wanda's voice was quickly escalated in pitch.

  
But Darcy had had enough.

  
She strode into Pietro's room, ignoring the nurse's indignant cries, and pressed the video call button while pointing her phone in Pietro's direction.

  
“Is anyone in the fucking Tower going to _listen_ for one second?!”

  
She knew she shouldn't have screamed (and the nurse's evil eye promised pain, so much pain), but the shocked gasp on the other end and the crashing sounds coming from the phone told her that she'd reached her objective.

  
“Where? _Where_?” Wanda's voice was full of a different kind of urgency now.

  
“We're at the Holy Mary's Heart Hospital, in DC, and he's critical, Wanda, like, really bad and it's been three days since I started calling and I don't know how long he has left...” Darcy hesitated. Wanda was keeping quiet, holding her breath and Darcy--

  
The young man was probably not going to make it, and telling the distraught sister that Pietro had been asking for her, even if for only a second? Yeah, no. She was not going there until the girl was here.

  
“If you can,” she choked in the end, “please come.”

  
And apparently, Maximoff didn't need any further convincing, because she dropped the phone and the next thing Darcy knew, it was Janey on the line.

  
“Honestly,” Jane huffed. “You could have just told me what it was all about.”

  
“Jane, I had no idea your line was secure, or that you lived at the Tower! Speaking of! Why? How could you not tell me that?”

  
“I thought you knew!” Jane defended immediately. “I must have told you... maybe.”

  
“No Janey, you didn't.” Darcy sighed. No matter, her job was done.

  
She looked at the still form of Pietro, hooked to so many machines it made her nauseated. The steady beep of one of them didn't reassure her in the slightest: it was supposed to go much, much faster, or at least so she'd been told.

  
And yet, she couldn't tell anyone, for fear of putting her improbable charge in danger.

  
She watched him for hours, at a loss, as he slept on thanks to the chemicals in his system.

  
Life wasn't fair. This man was so young.

* * *

 

  
The doors of the ICU burst open and Darcy's hand went automatically to her weapon holster. Her trusty taser was charged and ready.

  
In the back of her mind, she realized she'd fallen asleep on the job. Rookie mistake, and if this went south Coulson would have her head. Possibly detached from her body, too. Damn.

  
She made herself as tiny as possible from her corner in the room: while the odds of a confrontation were small, she wasn't about to dismiss a threat.

  
She relaxed, however, when she recognized Agent Barton, because _damn, those arms_. She didn't let go of her weapon, she knew better.

  
Behind Barton was the Scarlet Witch.

  
Darcy's heart sank.

  
The young woman looked to be on the verge of collapse, or an emotional breakdown, or possibly both; that was possible too. She looked so tiny and alone, wrapped in a red leather jacket that obviously didn't belong to her. She was darting her red, teary eyes all over the ward, scanning room after room in the frantic search of a familiar name, or face.

  
And aww hell, there was no way Darcy couldn't see the genuine desperation on that cute face; so she made a show of slowly removing the weapon she had kept trained on Barton, but kept it in her hands just in case, and plastered herself in front of the right door.

  
Barton's eyes narrowed on her in a second, but to his credit his body didn't twitch. No abortive movement, nothing, he was _that good._

  
“Wanda Maximoff?” Darcy tried really hard to keep her voice low and professional, but the cold tone lasted for like a second before it became an excited whisper; blast it. “He's in there,” she nodded at the door behind her. “He's not awake, now, but when I found him... he was saying your name.”

  
The woman didn't need further incentive and slid into the room, not caring of the tense atmosphere, but Agent (or was it ex-agent, now?) Barton stayed fixated on her.

  
They stated at each other for a long time, but in the end it was Darcy who relaxed first. She pocketed her taser and tried to look nonthreatening. All very professional, until she sneezed.

  
Barton's lips twitched, and Darcy blushed. What did they expect? She wasn't an agent, nope.

  
“Sorry,” she mumbled sleepily. “It's been a rough couple of days.” Not to mention the lack of sleep, the terrible assistant slash AI and the depressing atmosphere of the hospital ward. And the food sucked. She felt tired and grimy and not at all strong or impressive at the moment.

  
He snorted, leaning against the wall. “Sounds like it. I’m surprised to see you here, though. What are you doing in here, so far from Foster?”

  
Darcy drew herself up. “I haven't been with Jane since London, she's got a real minion now. And to answer your question, I was sent to aid in the Evacuation of Sokovia. But then they decided to split us to the hospitals to help with the ID of the bodies....”

  
“Uh uh. Sounds above what you signed for, kid.”

  
Darcy deflated. “Yes, it so is! I mean, I was all for the helping and even if the training sucked, you have _no idea_ of how much they made us ru.. wait, no you do, but really, Son of Coul gives impressive recruitment speeches,” at this Barton snorted and rolled his eyes, “but seriously, I've had to catalog so many dead bodies and the eyes, man the eyes... Poor people.”

  
Hawkeye nodded, sympathetic.

  
He opened his mouth to say something more, but suddenly Darcy's arms were full of tiny and shaking human. She stared bewildered at the thick brown hair under her chin as pale arms squeezed her harder than she would have deemed comfortable.

  
“Thank you. Thank you,” Wanda babbled. Or at least Darcy thought that’s what she was saying; the girl was very...overwhelmed.

  
She alternated between shooting looks down at the woman in her arms and at Barton, who despite his exhaustion was trying to suppress laughter. Very carefully, she returned the hug. Wanda leaned into the touch immediately and cried harder. No matter how many calming noises Darcy made, the woman just held on and cried harder.

  
“Kid, it's going to be alright, you hear?” Bless Agent Arms and his reassuring presence. After a while, Wanda nodded and released her. Darcy made a point of squeezing her shoulder and to smile at her encouragingly.

  
“Ms...Petrovich?” The head nurse came over, having finally noticed them, with her patented 'I'm a professional' look. She blatantly ignored Darcy. _Seriously? She gives a tiny scream in the ward and suddenly she's branded a monster? Really?_

  
Wanda looked very confused, but Barton quickly cottoned on. “Yes, this is her. Sorry, it's been a long flight. We came as soon as we received Ms Lewis's message.” And cue in the awkward smile.

  
The nurse nodded in understanding and made all the correct noises, but still managed to shoot a venomous look at Darcy.

  
“I'm sure you'll want to see the Doctor? He'll be here shortly in case you have any questions”, and with that coaxed Wanda towards Pietro's room once again.

  
“Petrovich?” Barton whispered as soon as they were out of earshot.

  
“The first name I could think of, Agent Barton.” She hissed back.

  
“Yeah, I got that. But good job, quick thinking.” Darcy preened at the praise. “And please, Clint is fine,” he grinned.

  
In the end, call-me-Clint was completely different from the Agent Barton the rookies whispered about at the training facility, but Darcy supposed it was normal, outside of a mission; he was human after all.

  
They talked about nothings for a while, aware of the comings and goings of the ICU. The Doctor had gone by and so had four different nurses.

  
Wanda came back almost an hour later. “The doctor said they don't think he's going to make it,” she whispered. “And it's impossible to move him anywhere.” And Darcy could feel the moment her heart broke for the fifth time in six hours. Finding out your brother's alive only to lose him again was a terrible thing. She spread her arms wide and Wanda almost flung herself at her.

  
Clint muffled a curse. “I'm calling the guys to say I'm going back later, Wanda. I can’t leave you like this, kid--I'll stay here with you a bit longer.” _Bless you, Clint Barton, you amazing father figure._

  
But Wanda shook her head. “No, Clint, you go. They need you at home. I can stay here, with...”

  
“Darcy,” she supplied helpfully. The girl smiled hesitantly at her and her stomach flopped a bit.

  
Clint seemed very unhappy with that idea, but after a long conversation that involved a lot more Sokovian words that Darcy could understand (seriously, how many languages could a single person speak, anyway?), he relented and agreed to go back to NYC, with the compromise that Wanda would call every six hours and speak personally to one of the Avengers.

  
In the end, there was just them, sitting on two tiny chairs in the ICU ward.

* * *

  
Days passed like a blur, but at least Darcy could now take naps, time off to shower and change. They shared a room at a hotel close to the hospital, but Wanda hardly ever used it.

  
They spent most of their day sitting in the ward, staring at the beeping machines. After a while, Darcy would initiate small conversation. Wanda never replied.

  
“You should eat something.” Wanda reached for a cracker, absentmindedly. “No, no, Wanda, more than crackers.” Darcy sighed and put an apple in her hands. Wanda bit into it mechanically, then noticed It wasn't the usual dry bread thing she used to eat. She didn't complain, though, and finished the rest of her meal in silence.

  
She then made herself more comfortable on the chair and shifted a bit closer to Darcy.

  
Darcy wasn't surprised; she had noticed Wanda was very touch starved. Considering her powers and her past, she wondered if Wanda’s brother and to some extent Clint had been the only ones to hug her and hold her recently.

  
She resolved to remedy the situation if a chance presented itself.

  
The chance presented itself a few minutes later when Wanda fell asleep right on Darcy's shoulder.

  
Darcy huffed a laugh and brushed Wanda's hair back from her face. She idly noticed that Wanda had really long lashes and that while sleeping she looked even younger than she was. Darcy pressed a kiss to her forehead and covered her with the stupid black standard issue jacket.

* * *

  
The episode would repeat itself for a few days, and then Wanda started opening up.

  
She had a very soft voice and spoke with very broken English, but the accent was pleasant and she was very outspoken about what she believed in. Under the tears burned a low fire and Darcy could see why she and her brother had joined the rebellion, with that kind of determination. She accompanied her words with wide gestures and would reach for Darcy every time she tried to explain something she couldn't translate properly.

  
And then, with the realization that maybe maybe she could see herself and Wanda become something more (and that had come out of _nowhere_ when Wanda had smiled at her her first real smile), Darcy felt extremely guilty. The woman was losing her brother, literally latching onto whatever kindness Wanda was shown. _She was a horrible person for even thinking it._

  
“And they come and try to get us, but Pietro is too fast and they run and we run and we escape.” Wanda murmured, talking about an escapade she and Pietro survived when they were just kids.

  
Darcy smiled. “He sounds like a cool guy.”

  
Wanda's smile was watery this time. “Yes, the coolest.”

  
And her face was close, and they were already hugging, side by side on these chairs, and Darcy was fighting her guilt--

  
\--and the monitors roared and beeped and alarms sounded from Pietro's room. His heartbeat, which had kept steady for the last five weeks, accelerated quickly and his breathing skyrocketed.

  
Wanda was at his bedside in a second, and Darcy felt like a horrible, horrible human being for having thought _'Not now!'_

  
_But instead of dying, Pietro's eyes opened._

  
He focused on the crying face of his sister and smiled. He fell asleep a second later.

  
In a flash doctors and nurses were in the room and they were pushing the two women out. They bustled and prodded and then looked very seriously at each other. Then, they happily declared it a miracle.

  
“We have no idea of how this is even possible, Ms Petrovich,” the doctor was all smiles, now that an actual miracle had happened in his ward. “But this sleep is a very good sign. He'll recover if nothing changes. Spectacularly so, if I may be so bold!”

* * *

  
Wanda's good mood was infectious, and Darcy realized that her facial muscles may never recover from all the smiling. Pietro was extremely good company, too. A bit less serious than her sister, but equally as passionate and protective. She tried to ignore the knowing looks he'd started sending her because he was clearly still recuperating and it really didn't mean anything.

  
It was then, as soon as Pietro was declared fit to be moved, that Tony Stark waltzed into the ward and arranged for the young man to be moved to the newly renovated Avengers Training Facility for rehab, and so Darcy's responsibilities were over.

  
Coulson had been trying to send her somewhere else for a while, and with the excuse to linger around the Maximoff twins now gone, Darcy watched with disappointment as her maybe-more-than-a-crush doggedly followed her brother out of the tiny hospital and disappeared.

* * *

 

“You're moving me? _Again?”_ She wanted to punch something, or tase it, so bad. So, so, bad.

  
“Yes, Miss Lewis. We've been asked for help and you're the most qualified asset we have for the job.” Coulson was as unflappable as ever.

  
“Okaaaay, no, wait, it's not okay. I'm not a Field Agent and yet you sent me to Nicaragua and then to Russia and I _just got back_! Do I need to wave my passport to you?”

  
“This is a long-term assignment, Ms Lewis, you'll be able to rest there.”

  
“Excuse me while I can't fathom how you could think _long term assignment_ could be considered a vacation, ever.”

  
“I'm sure you'll manage. Your flight leaves in four hours.”

* * *

  
The world was unfair, and life was unfair too, Darcy thought as she boarded the plane.

  
Apparently, she was going back to the States. And she even had scored a first class ticket for the trip, which was a first.

  
She slid in her first class seat, determined to take a quick nap before they left.

  
And her neighbour for the trip arrived at that precise moment, sitting down and promptly occupying the armrest. Darcy cracked open one eye, ready to fight for the armrest ( _wasn't this supposed to be first class?_ ) and then the other one, surprised.

  
Okay, life was unfair, Darcy amended, as Wanda Maximoff squeezed her hand and hooked her arm with hers, but this time, _this time_ , it wasn't so bad.

**Author's Note:**

> Hospitals work in a very different way than where I live.  
> Seriously, it's like another universe.  
> And Clint, you amazing person!
> 
> Hopefully, you enjoyed.
> 
> This is an exercise in writing, thank you for reading.


End file.
